


freaky fish mom

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Condesce doesn't exactly treat John like a son. (Alphaverse John.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	freaky fish mom

**Author's Note:**

> written for fanficstuck!  
> believe me this was not my idea :/

You stopped thinking of her as your mother a long time ago. Perhaps when you found out she was a freaky fish alien, and thousands of years old. Or perhaps when she drove Jade away, although you think the fish alien thing is more likely. What she’s doing right now certainly isn’t motherly. What she’s wearing right now isn’t very motherly either, and could be described simply as very little. You swallow sharply, tugging half-heartedly at the silky ties holding your wrists to the bed posts, and wish you were wearing a little more. Twisting around, you can see you could probably escape with ease, but think it wouldn’t really be worth it. This is weird, certainly, but you’re not exactly sure it’s in a bad way. Then again, you aren’t exactly sure what’s right and wrong any more.

 

“John, dear,” she says, in a false motherly voice that makes you cringe.

“Y-yes?” you say, turning to look at her.

You see the lingerie she’s wearing doesn’t leave much to the imagination, and swallow nervously.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

“O-okay.”

You close your eyes, then open them again when she tuts loudly, leaning over you. She manages to climb onto the bed gracefully, straddling your stomach and leaning over you, her hands on either side of your head.

“Relax,” she says, leaning down to whisper in your ear, and you flinch as she nips your earlobe.

She goes to kiss you, but you turn your head away and her lips brush against your cheek. She tuts again, and squeezes your cheeks with one hand, making you pout, and tilts your head back to face her.

“We can’t have that, now, can we?”

You try to say no, but fail. She grins, and plants a wet kiss on your lips. It leaves you feeling dirty. You think it might just be your imagination, but you could swear she tastes like fish. You don’t even really like fish.

“Come on, give mommy a kiss,” she says, releasing your face and tilting her cheek towards you.

Obediently, you press your lips dryly against her face, then lie your head back against the pillow, closing your eyes. Tutting, she taps your cheek with one long fingernail, and you reluctantly open your eyes.

“Good boy,” she says, patting you on the head, and you feel like gagging.

Smiling sickeningly sweetly, she slides backwards until she’s straddling your hips, her fingernails tracing delicate designs on your torso. You close your eyes again, then snap them open when her nails dig into your chest. Swallowing sharply, you mutter an apology. She grins in a way that makes your stomach turn, and slides her hands down to your hips. She starts to stroke your dick in slow smooth motions, and you feel yourself getting hard despite yourself. You hate yourself for it. You close your eyes again, trying to forget what’s happening, but open them quickly before she notices.

“Such a good boy,” she purrs, reaching up to caress your face, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning away from her hand.

Moving a little closer, she takes your right hand and slips it between her legs. You stare up at her face, trying to keep your mind blank, as you move your index finger and slip it inside her. She feels wet and slippery and mildly repulsive, and you can’t help but think of fish as you touch her. The expressions on her face make you want to throw up, or stop, or both, but you keep going until she pulls your hand away. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, as she slides your hand over to your dick, and touch yourself until you’re hard again. You really hope this will be over soon.

“Mmm, good boy,” she says.

You close your eyes as you feel her sliding herself onto you, wet and warm and heavy, and try not to think about it. She starts to roll her hips against you, and you think about dinner. You wonder what it’s going to be tonight, and hope it’s pork. Pork is your favourite, although right now you just hope it’s anything but fish. You close your eyes when she starts to moan, and try to imagine someone else there instead of her – someone you’d like to be there. That turns out to be a good way to make this a lot better, and you actually come when she does, earning yourself a pat on the head. You feel like a dog, albeit a nauseated one. You wonder what she’d do with you if you were one, and decide you don’t want to think about it. There’s a lot about today you never want to think about again.  


End file.
